


esurio

by ButterflyGhost



Series: due South Wizard!Verse [29]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, due South
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 03:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser can't concentrate at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	esurio

Everybody seems to be walking on egg shells around me. I don't know why everybody keeps looking at me... like that. Sideways, anxious. Like they're expecting me to grow another head, or start foaming at the mouth. I'm doing my job, and doing it well, even though it does hurt. It's grindingly slow, has been for weeks, and... well... boring. I hate the word. I've never been bored before. My grandmother always told me that there was no reason for an intelligent person ever to be bored, that there was always something of interest in the world upon which to fix one's attention.

For a moment I have the unworthy thought that Grandmother can never have been in love, then I remember the palpable affection between her and Grandfather. They loved each other, in that lazy comfortable way that... I can't describe it. Actually... yes I can. It sounds strange, but old shoes. They fitted together like a pair of comfortable boots. 

This doesn't help. I am still bored. And fretting at the bit. My Grandmother may have said that there was always something of interest... but there is nothing of interest, other than Victoria. This is ridiculous. I know myself that I should be able to think of something else... someone else. But she keeps...intruding. When I'm doing paperwork she keeps intruding. When I'm standing guard she keeps intruding. Thatcher is talking, and she keeps intruding.

So, I think of him instead, and that doesn't help either. Because I've already broken her, already destroyed her. She's in pieces forever, and it's my fault. So, how can I think of him, knowing what I know, knowing that he's a crypto wizard, that if he's discovered he'll be dragged into our world, destroyed by it? Haven't I realised yet that I'm not safe around the people I love? I want him to be safe. I need him to be safe... and so, there can never be an us. I don't want to break him.

And now she's in my head, and he's in my head, and... damn it, they're both in my head together, and I'm thinking filthy thoughts about them. Separately. Together. This is horrible. I can't think straight. I thought I'd grown out of this when I was sixteen. 

Thatcher's just said something to me, and I completely missed it. Now she's looking at me, with that face again. Sometimes I could swear she was a witch, she sees so much.

“Constable, did you hear what I just said?”

“I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't quite...”

“Are you feeling entirely normal, Constable?”

“Normal?”

“I have to say, that you seem odd, even by your usual standards. Have you seen a doctor recently?”

“No, Sir, no, I haven't.”

“Well, may I suggest that you do?”

“Yes, Sir.”

She gazes at me a moment longer, speculatively. Then she sighs. “Go home, Constable. Take a day or two. See a doctor.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I say, flooding with a juddering relief that I can go home, that I can see Victoria.

The Inspector is right, I'm sick. I'm not a fool, I can see how abnormal this whole thing is. But there's not a damned thing a doctor could do to help me... and even if the help was there I wouldn't take it.

When I arrive home, Dief is lying in the kitchen, looking melancholy. He doesn't even wag his tail at me. I've been paying Willie extra to walk him more often in the day, but still, my poor wolf is missing me. I want to apologise to him, I want to make a fuss... I hate the fact that I'm neglecting him. But it's too late, she's waiting, as if she had known that I would be here. The apartment is full of candles, full of little lights. And she's smiling, with her beautiful hair tumbling like smoke over her bare shoulders, her breasts hidden by a whisper of gauze, and oh, I go to her. I have no choice.


End file.
